Thru-hiking the Pacific Crest Trail was the single most blissful and transformative experience of my life. But I was also pissed off about 8% of the time. Here are some potentially aggravating scenarios you may encounter to fuel your 8% :

Blisters.

Waterless stretches. (So glad I spent all that money on ultralight equipment because 4 more ounces on TOP of the 22 pounds of water I have to carry would be cruel.)

Animal screaming. (Shrill animal screaming just spanks any other reason you’re being kept up at night.)

Unshakeably needy hikers. (They’re out of food. They’re out of water. They’re out of money. And they MUST talk.)

Disappearing tread. (Wait. Is the trail over? Where’d it go? Is this Canada? Oh, there it is under all that poison oak.)

Wash-outs. (Yes, indeed. The trail did just end.)

Glacier water. (Killing hundred dollar water filters one liter at a time.)

Sundays. (How dare they close the post office. Didn’t they know you were coming?)

Complainers. (Otherwise known as “negative Nancies” or “Debbie downers” or “why are you even out here anyways”. Of course this entire post is one long complaint I suppose.)

Food portions. (The whole “serving size” designations are a fiasco of deceit. There is no way there are 4 servings in a box of mac and cheese. No way. And since when is a hamburger under half a pound?)

Realizing at noon that you’ve walked about 4 miles less than you thought you had. (that math thing)

Large patches of clear-cut forests. (There’s got to be a better way.)

Knowing you’re in a spectacular section of trail but not being able to see due to weather/fog. (Pretty much all of Washington)

Hikers a couple of days in front of you that behave like assholes in trail towns making everyone hate you when you get there.

Persistent bears that check to see if you’ve let go of your food every half hour or so throughout the night.

Having at least 4 miles of exposed ridge hiking both in front and behind you when a lightning storm hits. (I guess I’ll just die now.)

The trail itself becoming a creek. (especially after you’ve ninja-ed across so many to keep your feet dry all day)

Backtracking. (Having to backtrack for any reason whatsoever, usually because you are lost or left your trekking poles, is infuriating.)

Sunscreen, Deet, and daily handfuls of ibuprofen. (You know it can’t be good for you.)

The trail ENDING. (How can it do that? How can it take away the most fulfilling and entertaining endeavor you’ve ever had and thrust you so cruelly back into a world of pavement and paperwork?)

The trail is a gift. The trail experience is a gift. Besides parenthood, I can’t recommend anything more highly. But it WILL piss you off, at least 8% of the time.